Andrew Bergman directs Matthew Broderick, Marlon Brando and Bruno Kirby in this crime comedy where a naive film student is dragged into a mafia scam involving extinct animals and a don who looks and sounds exactly like The Godfather.
One of those slick Hollywood comedies that gets by on an amusing tone and an amiable cast so effortlessly that you arrive at the end credits without realising the paucity of jokes and utter lack of laughs. Pleasant and enjoyable enough that you forgive The Freshman of the cardinal sin of being a comedy that isn’t very funny. It is a strong showcase of acting talent. Brando spoofs himself wittily, Kirby steals scenes and Penelope Anne Miller is aggressively effervescent as the daughter of Da Boss. There is also a cool Komodo Dragon.
Debra Granik directs Thomasin McKenzie, Ben Foster and Dale Dickey in this drama where a veteran father and his precocious daughter try to stay off the grid and live in the wilds.
A great film. Exploring the transient lives and lines between homelessness and survivalism, authenticity and conforming, care and nurture. Foster’s troubled but loving father just wants to live and raise his daughter on his own terms. Thomasin McKenzie is excellent as the young woman who wants to tentatively connect with society, and sees the growing risks in completely abandoning the safety of community and shelter. It is a film with no easy answers. Granik essays the growing dangers of evading the authorities and modern comforts. She also completely sells the love between the father and daughter – their early reunion after being separated for a few days by social services is underplayed yet heartwrenching. Underplayed yet heart wrenching pretty much sums up this beautiful movie.
Wolfgang Petersen directs Tom Berenger, Bob Hoskins and Greta Scacchi in this thriller where a rich man recovering from amnesia after a car crash hires a detective to square away the flashbacks that do not sync with his current happy existence.
A film with very few pleasures except unravelling its “big twist” yet the twist is utterly guessable after the first scene. Like The Sixth Sense, you’d have the be a moron not to figure out where it was heading from the opener. This doesn’t even have decent performances (even from Hoskins or Joanne Whaley who are capable of better) or beautiful shots to keep you occupied. Much of the cinematography is flat and uninspired, except a sore toe sequence where we enter a run aground boat that suddenly makes everything flip into German Expressionism. If you wait around until the end to see the answer and its workings you’ll feel cheated. A scam of a movie.
Yorgos Lanthimos directs Olivia Colman, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone in this historical satire where Queen Anne finds her over indulged and paranoid attentions fought tooth and nail for by a bullying Lady Sarah Churchill and a conniving Abigail Marsham.
Wowee! What a high bar every other film released this new year now has to fall into or bang their foreheads off of. Easily Yorgos Lanthimos’ best film, this retains all his detached, cold bite and surreal microcosm playset view of society. But adds characters richer and more attractive than his usual deadpan chess pieces caught in his smirking, cold zero sum game. All three leads manage to be utterly vicious in their actions yet retain our sympathies. Colman is unguarded and stroppily perfect as the spoilt queen, tainted as much by tragedy as constant appeasement. Emma Stone has never been sexier as the fallen aristocrat, learning the pecking order from the bottom and then using everything at her disposal to graft her way into the Queen’s chambers. My personal favourite though is Rachel Weisz’ catty yet controlled Huma Abedin, the power behind the throne, albeit with a gormlessly ineffective husband. You cannot tell if she is forcing the continued war with France to further his prestige, get him out of her hair or put him in fatal peril. Yet she powers through all interactions with the sardonic edge of a Malcolm Tucker and the intelligent calm of a Hannibal Lecter. Somehow through this steely strength, Weisz also implies a true affection and openness with Anne. Watching her be torn down more than a few pegs in the mind games and powerplays has its pleasures but you aren’t entirely convinced her eventual comeuppance is exactly an unhappy outcome. Special mention should go to Nicholas Hoult’s out and out parliamentary rotter, a towering peacock of a brute, who does not realise just what a hornet’s nest he pokes when he tries to manipulate the ladies at war. He would be my Best Supporting Actor winner for the year without a moment’s pause. Robbie Ryan’s cinematography is superb; the establishing use of fish eye lenses lays entire tableaux out quirkily, prepping us for the unusual interactions. And while whether lighting with candlelight or daylight he manages to captures the beauty of the elaborates dresses, wall hangings and stunning leads. Obviously Swiftian deadpan wit and evocative Hogarthian visuals bring to mind Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon. This is the saltier romp around the 18th century, with a far more capable ensemble… and in terms of filmmaking prowess the two masterpieces are pretty much neck and neck.
Tim Wardle directs Edward Galland, David Kellman and Robert Shafran in this documentary about triplets separated at birth, who rediscovered each other by accident in their late teens and became media sensations.
There’s a wobbly moment during the opening stretch of this brilliant documentary where I thought we were in for the same old trouble. One of the talking heads recounted the humdrum tale of getting a speeding ticket with such detail and emphasis that I suddenly got the sinking feeling there wasn’t enough story beyond the awe-inspiring hook. Was I due for an hour of “will this do” filler to pad out a decent concept. I was wrong, Three Identical Strangers has twists and turns to spare. So much so that it skips over one of the charming three brothers involvement in a gang murder… the speeding ticket must have felt of paramount importance. When you have this many threads to explore (strained relationships, media circus, hardcore 80s hedonism, a far reaching conspiracy) murder becomes downgraded to an aside. Sure, Wardle frames the occasional revelation with a fair amount of manipulation (one adoptive parent comes in for harsh editorial judgement based on mere theory) and the non-linear approach sometimes stacks information against the viewer’s natural sense of deduction. Yet as an exploration of three unique and entertaining characters, plus a wider examination of the Nature V Nurture debate, this proves to be a real life Twins meets Trading Places. One that holds your attention like a vice.
Tom Clegg directs Roger Daltrey, Adam Faith and Cheryl Campbell in this prison breakout thriller following the incarceration, escape and life on the run of bank robber turned writer John McVicar.
Another decent film lost in the midsts of time. It is not a classic but undeserving of obscurity, it seems to lack the cult following of Scum or The Long Good Friday although it hits the same notes just as enjoyably. Daltrey is surprisingly solid in the lead, holding his own next to Steven Berkoff’s OTT hammy tough (the man has one setting) and Cheryl Campbell’s rather more sophisticated support turn (she’s the best thing in it). The Who soundtrack (they score the film in all but name) is a little out of place but does emphasise the desire to be free or “freeeeeeeeeeee-EEE!” even. A lot of contemporary reviews feel the narrative goes off the boil after the prison break but I actually got a lot of value in watching McVicar struggle living a normal family life while on the run with a price on his head. A perfectly decent hardboiled watch.
Yves Angelo directs Gérard Depardieu, Fanny Ardant and Fabrice Luchini in this period drama about a French officer thought dead who returns to claim his wife and fortune at the most inopportune juncture for the lady in question.
A forgotten yet gripping drama, which pleasingly never becomes predictable, furnished with strong performances from all its leads. The costumes and locations are convincing yet elegant. It even features polar bears. Well worth a revival.
Chloé Zhao directs Brady Jandreau, Tim Jandreau and Lilly Jandreau in this tale of a rodeo rider with a head injury struggling to find his place in the world now he can no longer ride the horses he loves and is an expert with.
A fine small movie casting people actually in this situation in reality to play out a fictional account of their hardships. You feel the small triumphs and grinding stumbles of Brady’s new life. Zhao rather sensitively explores the macho attitudes of the sub-culture, one that struggles to understand failure and limitations as being human. Often capturing the beauty of the rusty, dusty landscape and the hardships but not a production that you would need to revisit after enjoying the once.
Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead directs themselves and Callie Hernandez in this sci-fi mystery about two brothers who escaped a death cult in their youth who return to the camp only to discover no one has aged and unexplainable physical phenomena is happening.
An eerie mood piece with flashes of dirty humour and real emotion. For the first hour I was mildly put off by a film that seemed so dedicated to its well hidden but inevitable twist it seemed to exist only to serve it. Yet then we get quite a big chunk of the mystery revealed to us, and without spoiling it here, The Endless has a lot of sophisticated play with it in the final stretch. So much so you kinda wish we could explore this strange, exciting landscape just a little more by end credits. Well acted and impressively frugal for a narrative that takes on such ambitious concepts. It won me over by the midway point and I’m now eager to see the directing / starring pairs first two features.
Richard Lester and Richard Donner direct Christopher Reeve, Margot Kidder and Terrence Stamp in the blockbuster sequel where Superman abandons his powers to settle down with Lois, just as three vengeful Kryptonian exiles arrive on Earth hellbent on getting everyone to kneel in front of them.
If you asked me up until 2019 “What’s the best Superman movie?*”, I’d plump for this without a millisecond of hesitation. But it isn’t really, is it. A film of wonderous, iconic, childhood defining moments that holds together flakily. The perfect example of why you shouldn’t see the sausage being made. When you know about Superman II’s troubled production you cannot help but see the joins, fudges and compromises snagging out at your entertainment hungry eyeballs.
For those who don’t know: The producers were the Salkinds, a pair infamous for getting cast and crew to film an excess of material during the production of a first film so that they could pay principals only once for essentially two shoots, ending up with a cost reduced sequel already in the can before Episode One premiered. The plan almost worked here if it wasn’t for three people.
1. Marlon Brando threatened to sue them if any footage of him appeared in Superman II. This leads to him being edited out of all flashbacks and Fortress of Solitude moments, moments he should certainly be in. Creating an almost Stalinist revision of what we saw in 1978 in the cinemas / three hours earlier at home. He is glaringly out of the picture.
2. Then Richard Donner disagreed with the Salkinds about the tone of the sequel. So he was kicked off the set with 30% of filming still to go. Richard Lester took over, a director who preferred silly sight gags over epic sweep, and had to reshoot so many scenes in his more journeyman style otherwise the Director’s Guild would credit Donner and the Salkinds would have to pay him. This, in turn, created another problem.
3. Gene Hackman sided with Donner and refused to take part in any reshoots out of solidarity. Meaning a lot of Lex Luthor’s new midshots are an obvious body double, facing the wrong way and dubbed by an impressionist. Meanwhile reams of plot are narrated by said impressionist and Miss Teschmacher while stock footage of indistinguishable, tiny figures in wideshot traverse snowy tundra and mountainous peaks. Lester and the Salkinds found a solution to the myriad problems of getting caught without their biggest names, but it is not a solution that works particularly well on repeated viewings.
Yet a deeply flawed film is not necessarily a bad film. The fudges do link a lot of memorable stuff. Terrence Stamp’s high camp Zod is an absolute blast as the tyrant who doesn’t quite understand the planet he is subjugating. Sarah Douglas’ Ursa makes for a support villian so deviously sexy and powerful I’m sure she pre-programmed quite a few boys of my generation to seek out strong, bad girls with pixie haircuts in later life. Together with dumb muscle Non, they make a triumvirate that genuinely threatens Earth and Supes. Plotwise, how can our hero beat three antagonists all equally as powerful as him, working together and with no regard for human life? It creates an excitingly tense premise sadly only really explored in a lengthy slapstick fight outside the Daily Planet. Lester should be shot for some of those “sight gags”.
The romance between Clark and Lois continues. With Clark forsaking his powers for a normal life. This sequence adds to the growing tension (boy oh boy, will he need those powers soon) and gifts Reeve with his best acting moments when he discovers what it truly would feel like to be as defenceless as his Clark Kent persona.
So Superman II doesn’t really hold up to adult scrutiny yet it still manages to link together a few really fabulous sequences.
*The best pure and uncut Superman movie is the more consistent first entry, while the best movie featuring Superman is Zack Snyder’s much maligned but chaotically compelling BvS: Dawn of Justice. Kneel before, Snyder!
Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary 